


A Good Old-Fashioned Cock Up

by Atalan



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Crack, Evil Contains The Seeds Of Its Own Undoing, Humour, M/M, Movie Night, small warning for allusions to non-con scenario on the tv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29713476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atalan/pseuds/Atalan
Summary: Crowley's habit of subjecting Aziraphale to bad movie nights backfires spectacularly.Another small crack fic for the prompt "Let's watch".
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 373





	A Good Old-Fashioned Cock Up

“Look at that acting,” Crowley cackled, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between them. “That’s Oscar-bait right there, that is. The fear. The _pathos_. The see-through nightie that her tits are falling right out of.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and reached for the popcorn, selecting one perfectly coated kernel and popping it into his mouth. Crowley normally sniped at him for eating it wrong – “by the handful, angel, stuff it all in there” – but he was absorbed in the rather unconvincing chase sequence playing out on the screen in front of them, and didn’t seem to notice.

Aziraphale really didn’t understand what Crowley got out of watching the worst low-budget horror movies he could get his hands on, nor why he insisted on sharing the activity. Aziraphale had tried everything he could think of to get out of Movie Night, up to and including faking his own kidnapping, but Crowley would not be deterred. Which probably meant that Aziraphale was correct in his suspicion that what Crowley got out of it was tormenting him.

This one was titled _Dogged by Demons_ , and the DVD cover featured a beautiful, pale girl in a bare slip of a dress, a menacing shadow looming behind her, one clawed hand curled possessively across her throat. Aziraphale’s eyebrows had shot up when he first saw it, but he’d decided not to ask if Crowley meant anything by it. It wasn’t like it was an uncommon subject, after all. And if Crowley _was_ trying to tell him something, he was unlikely to be able to keep quiet about it past the first act or so.

The cover had made the film look considerably more artsy than what was currently happening on the screen: an over-styled young woman jogging determinedly through slightly damp woodland in what was supposed to be the dead of night, but had clearly been filmed by putting a blue filter over the camera and messing with the light levels in post-production. Aziraphale glanced at the DVD case again, wondering what studio had produced such a sub-par piece of media. 

He paused, frowned, squinted for a better look. He hadn’t inspected it closely when Crowley had waved it in his face earlier, but now he noticed two things. One was that it was unrated, which was unusual these days. The other was that the bold banner proclaiming – improbably – that the film was a two-time Academy Award Nominee was both misspelled as _Academie_ , and had an almost-unnoticeable asterisk at the end, presumably pointing towards some sort of disclaimer elsewhere on the box.

A sudden suspicion seized Aziraphale. He looked over at Crowley.

“Oh, come on, it’s been twenty minutes and you still haven’t caught her? In those heels?” Crowley lobbed a couple of pieces of popcorn at the screen. “Call yourself a demon? You should have eaten her by now!” He shook his head. “Horror’s a lost art, if you ask me. Either she dies in the next five minutes and it turns out the real protagonist’s some guy with a spade jaw, or she survives and we’re left with some serious questions about the competency of the supernatural entities involved.”

Suspicion bloomed into joyous certainty. Aziraphale barely kept the smile off his face.

“Hmm,” he said, and took another piece of popcorn.

“ _Finally_ ,” Crowley muttered, three minutes later, when the stalking demon burst from cover and pinned the girl to the ground. “Oh, _look_ at him, honestly – not a maggot to be seen – who runs through that sort of terrain shirtless, anyway, does he _want_ scratched nipples? Much too clean and pretty to be a demon, he’d be better off modelling jeans!”

Aziraphale gazed at Crowley – his long-legged sprawl clad in tight black denim, his clean-shaven, handsome face, his shirt with its top three buttons undone – and heroically forbore to comment.

“Anyway, chop-chop, buddy, she’s at your mercy now–”

The demon on the screen tore the girl’s dress in half from top to bottom, revealing both that she lacked underwear, and that her privates were remarkably well-groomed for someone who had allegedly just been running for her life through the forest. Crowley’s words died in a strangled gulp. His eyes went very wide. His mouth dropped open.

Aziraphale, for the first time ever, grabbed a handful of popcorn and stuffed it into his mouth. It was that or give the game away by laughing.

_“Oh no!”_ wailed the girl on the screen, spreading her legs helpfully for the demon looming over her. _“You mustn’t! I’m a virgin!”_

_“I know,_ ” leered the demon, in what was clearly intended to be a brutish growl, but wasn’t quite carried off by the actor’s light baritone. “ _I could smell you a mile away.”_

“Wait,” Crowley managed, looking around frantically for the DVD case, which was mysteriously nowhere to be found. “Wait, wait a minute…”

“Well,” Aziraphale said mildly, “it looks like her evening is heading in a different direction than we had assumed.”

A blush was creeping up Crowley’s neck. He abandoned his search for the case and turned to where he’d left the remote. It, too, had somehow gone missing. Amazing how easy it was to lose the things.

The demon on the screen did not seem inclined to foreplay, and his trousers were apparently fastened with velcro, given how easily he ripped them off his hips. Rather convenient, actually, Aziraphale thought, although of course it would be terribly embarrassing if they got caught on something while you were out and about…

“ _No!_ ” moaned the girl, “ _it’s too big!_ ”

“It’s not _that_ big,” Aziraphale retorted, considering the stiff cock now on display. “Though I imagine it would still be alarming if one wasn’t expecting it.”

“ _Shit_ , angel, I’m sorry–” 

Crowley snapped his fingers, clearly intending to put a stop to the playback, or possibly miracle the whole TV setup into the deepest ocean. Nothing happened. For one glorious moment, he stared at his own fingers as if he thought they had betrayed him. Then, finally, he cottoned on, head snapping up to fix Aziraphale with a look of mingled horror and disbelief.

Aziraphale felt that popcorn wasn’t really the thing anymore, so he conjured himself a nice glass of burgundy as the people on the screen set about fucking in a way that quite honestly looked more like hard work than fun for anyone involved.

“I do believe you set a rule about watching to the end,” Aziraphale said, no longer even trying to hide his glee. “What was it you said? Something about _commitment to the experience_ , wasn’t it?”

“ _Angel_ –”

“And _you can’t judge it until you’ve seen all of it_ , I think? And _sometimes the most mediocre beginning can lead to unexpected places_?” Aziraphale took a long sip of his wine, savouring it. “I simply can’t _wait_ to see what unexpected places this one leads to. I seem to recall you mentioning that it’s over two hours long.”

A tiny whine escaped Crowley’s throat, very much like the noise made by some irritating electronic toy with a dying battery.

“Oh, look,” Aziraphale added brightly, gesturing at the screen. “He’s brought friends.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] A Good Old-Fashioned Cock Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29755212) by [Djapchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan)




End file.
